Forget to Remember

couldn’t be pushed. Carol had an instant liking for her.
    “I’m going to stick to Carol for the moment. Audrey, how’s dinner coming? I’m famished.” Audrey said dinner was ready. “Good. Let’s adjourn to the dining room. Audrey and I usually eat our dinner here, but this is a special occasion. It’s not every day my long-lost granddaughter—or her doppelganger—returns. No, I don’t need help. I’m not so decrepit that I can’t get around by myself.”
    She said the last to Paul who was attempting to help her up. Rose said good-bye to them and went home. The long table of dark wood was already covered with a linen tablecloth, china plates, and silverware Carol suspected was real silver and not just stainless steel masquerading under the name. The large and comfortable chairs matched the table.
    Once she had gotten to her feet, Mrs. Horton walked steadily into the dining room. She sat at one end, with Paul and Carol on either side of her. Audrey, who had apparently eaten earlier, served them, starting with a bottle of red wine Carol, who was certain she wasn’t a connoisseur, suspected was quite expensive. Paul commented favorably on it. Carol limited herself to two glasses.
    Carol half expected Mrs. Horton to quiz her, but she didn’t. Instead, she played the perfect hostess, making sure they had plenty to eat and drink, including apple pie Audrey baked from apples grown on the property. She told Carol Paul had filled her in on the circumstances of how Carol was found and mentioned her amnesia briefly. She didn’t ask whether Carol remembered anything and said she looked good, considering what she had gone through.
    She kept the conversation going by telling stories about her family, including Cynthia, always referring to her in the third person—she, not you. Carol got the impression Mrs. Horton was telling her this family history so that Carol would be able to answer questions about it. Or maybe she was watching to see how Carol responded. However, she never acted as though she thought Carol were Cynthia.
    Paul also told some stories about the Sakais, but he deferred to Mrs. Horton and let her do most of the talking. He did ask her if Cynthia had a scar on her abdomen. Mrs. Horton said she didn’t know about any scar.
    While they were sipping Cognac and drinking coffee, Audrey brought Mrs. Horton a photo album, containing pictures of the Sakai family up to the time when Cynthia was about ten years old. Several pictures appeared to be missing. They must have fallen out or been used for another purpose.
    “Unfortunately, I don’t have any recent pictures of Cynthia. After she disappeared two years ago, I gave Helen the albums and pictures I had from when she was older so she and Richard could use them to help with the search.”
    None of the shots of Cynthia or Michael or her parents registered with Carol. The young Cynthia must have been a cute girl, but Carol couldn’t relate to her. She saw Paul was watching her expressions carefully.
    “Elizabeth, I was hoping you’d still have some photos of Cynthia when she was older. I’m about to go through their house. I’m sure I’ll turn up some photos that are more current.” He took a sip of Cognac from a miniature silver-covered glass.
    Mrs. Horton closed the album. “I’m an early-to-bed, early-to-rise person these days, so I’m going to kick you two out.”
    Paul pushed back his chair. “I’ll take Carol to her hotel. Tomorrow we’ll go to the Sakai house and around Chapel Hill, to see if that jogs her memory. We’ll meet you here for lunch, as we planned, so you can see her in the daylight.”
    Mrs. Horton looked at Carol. “Yes, my eyes aren’t as good as they used to be. What hotel are you staying at, dear?”
    “I don’t know.”
    Paul quickly answered. “The Carolina Inn.”
    Mrs. Horton nodded. “Good. It’s a nice place. You should be comfortable there.”
    She had risen from the table and walked with them the short distance to the front door, using her cane. “Paul, be careful driving out of here. I hope you didn’t drink too much wine. Take good care of Carol.”
    “I’m fine. I will.”
    “Carol, give me a hug. It’s nice to see a young person here again.”
    Carol hugged her gingerly, afraid she might break, and said how much she had enjoyed the evening, just as if Mrs. Horton were a casual friend. She and Paul walked out to his car, which was a large SUV. Rose had previously transferred her suitcase to